Crystal Tears
by KalmeKalica
Summary: A long time ago, Garland gave one of his favorite genomes to a women he loved. The woman let the genome go and promised she'd be back to claim his life, upon his 18th birthday. CHAPTER 11! Its the last chapter! ITS FINALLY DONE!
1. The Attack

Okay people. This is my first attempt at fanfiction. Please, don't, I repeat, DON'T be kind with your reviews! But I want constructive criticism (Don't say, "It was horrible. I don't want to read it." Instead go for: "It was horrible the way you wrote it. I wish there was more detail. I think it would have been better if you had written it in the first-person" etc.)

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Disclaimer: I don't own it. Squaresoft does. I wrote it. Squaresoft didn't. I don't send lawyers to Squaresoft's doorstep. Please don't send them to mine.

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Zidane Tribal and Queen Garnet stepped out into the cool autumn air, and smiled at each other. Dagger picked up the basket, and Zidane picked up the blanket and they set out for their picnic.

But little did they know that _someone else_ was watching them. She followed them out to the outskirts of Alexandria, watching as they spread the blanket out in the field behind the city.

Zidane ate slowly, stealing glances at Dagger every once in a while, just out the corner of his eye. _My God, she's gorgeous,_ he thought, resisting the urge to lean over and kiss her. He relaxed a little as they continued to eat.

At length, Dagger was done, and laid down upon the blanket, soaking up the last warm rays from the sun. He watched as she closed her eyes and smiled at the sun, which seemed to be smiling back down upon her.

Slowly and as quietly as possible, he moved over to her, so as not to wake her. He gazed down upon her, and wondered if he'd ever felt this way towards anyone before. He watched her rest for a moment.

"What is it?" Dagger asked, making Zidane jump slightly. "I thought you were asleep…" he whispered. Dagger's chocolate brown eyes fluttered open and she smiled as she sat up. Zidane stared at her for a moment, before changing the subject.

"It's nice to get out of the castle, isn't it?" he asked. She laughed softly. "Yes, I suppose it is. If there is anything that makes me tense, it's being cooped up there all day and all night. It's nice to get out every once in a while." She leaned over and kissed Zidane's cheek, making him blush lightly. "Happy birthday." She whispered. And it was, for she had managed only to get the both of them out of the castle _for_ his 18th birthday.

"But, the funny thing is," Zidane whispered, putting his hand in his pocket, "I have a gift for you." Dagger blinked at him for a moment as he extracted a tiny black velvet box from his pocket. He held it out to her.

She was about to take it when something knocked Zidane to the ground. She pulled back, looking up as a large black _cat_ swooped down from the sky and picked Zidane up in her jaws. Dagger screamed as the beast soared up quite a few feet before dropping Zidane. He hit the ground hard, but bounced up, ready for battle. To Dagger's surprise, the beast _laughed._

"Have you forgotten already, Zidane?" Zidane let his weapon drop to the ground in realization.

"Cyra?" he asked, staring at the cat as she pulled her great paw back and struck him hard, landing him on the ground with a sharp groan. "I'll be back for you in three weeks." She said. The beast struck him hard in the chest with her back paw, before picking up her bat-like wings and flapping away, in much the same way she had come.

Dagger was motionless. She looked down at the tiny black box with lay open, the once pristine golden ring splattered with Zidane's blood. She looked up at Zidane, who lay motionless on the ground.

She ran over to him. He was panting softly, but it was labored. Dagger touched his face. "I'll go for help," she said in a panicked whisper.

She ran off as fast as her feet could carry her.


	2. Consecquences

I'M NOT DONE YET!

I'll get into more detail later…don't you worry….

Heh heh heh…kinda left ya hanging back there, didn't I? Well, you people know the drill. Review, Review, REVIEW! (I really do appreciate reviews! They help me write better stories!)

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Disclaimer: I don't own it. Squaresoft does. I wrote it. Squaresoft didn't. I don't send lawyers to Squaresoft's doorstep. Please don't send them to mine.

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_Dagger stared up at the large black animal. Its cat-like face, not stupid like most beasts, rather very intelligent, stared back at her. The Cat's bright green-yellow eyes portrayed a certain sadism. _

_Zidane's dead body lay at Dagger's feet, and as she stared up at the monster, numb tears poured down her face. She could hardly take in that the beast had just killed her sweet Zidane. The Cat raised her head and flapped her wings, before picking up her head to strike Dagger dead as well. Dagger cringed just as she heard the snap of the beast's jaws…._

Dagger awoke with a start. She was in her bedchambers, and for a second, dismissed the entire thing as simply a bad dream.

Until she remembered where Zidane was.

Poor Zidane was being looked after by Dagger's medical staff. She knew it was very possible that Zidane wouldn't make it through the next few days. She recalled what Dr. Klamia had told her: "It's very likely that Zidane will die. He lost a lot of blood when that beast attacked him," he had said, turning and lending his eyes to make full eye contact with Dagger. "I've sedated him. It's the best way. If he wakes up on his own, I think he'll pull through. However, if he doesn't…." The doctor had trailed off. The sentence didn't need to be finished. "He won't be in pain, this way," the doctor had said in a very comforting way.

Dagger rolled out of bed and dressed herself. She didn't even think about breakfast. She had to see Zidane. She walked down the halls she knew so well after becoming queen.

When she came to the door she recognized as the Infirmary, she held her breath and closed her eyes before going in. She took a deep, even breath, and tried not to think about what would happen if Zidane didn't wake up.

Dagger knew it was early. She knew the sun hadn't risen yet. Maybe it was anxiety that had caused her to wake up this early.

Dagger opened the door. As her eyes focused in the dark, she could just make out Zidane's still form on the bed. A soft, mournful sigh slipped past her lips. In return to her soft sigh came a pained whimper. Dagger's ears pricked and she rushed over to the bed.

Zidane's large, blue-green eyes opened and he stared at her for a moment. Pain and confusion vied for dominance in those eyes, and Dagger leaned down and touched his face lightly, cupping his face in her hand.

Zidane whimpered again, and Dagger stood up and went over to light a candle. Feeling much better with light in the room, she returned to Zidane.

"You're alright," She whispered, feeling tears welling up and falling from her face.

"My back hurts," Zidane, obviously tired, choked back in (what Dagger sensed) was a humorous tone of voice. Moving slowly, Dagger gently rolled Zidane over. To her surprise, the gash was still bleeding slightly.

Dagger caressed the back of his neck. She heard a tiny purr (purr?) escape from Zidane's lips. Dagger smiled.

But for some reason, Dagger sensed Zidane was sad or anxious about something. She chose not to ask.

Dagger left Zidane alone for the rest of the day, completing work and such, walking around the market to look for some food that she could snack on (or bring to Zidane, she thought) as well as various errands.

When she was done and returned to the castle, it was nearly midnight. She slipped into her nightgown and crawled into bed.

But she couldn't sleep. She woke up several times, thinking of Zidane. She couldn't stand it any longer.

Dagger pulled herself out of bed and wrapped a robe around her. She walked down the hall and came up to the infirmary she knew housed Zidane. She pushed the door open…

…And gasped.

Zidane was standing outside on the balcony, but that's not what startled Dagger. The large black beast stood in front of him, with the same sadism Dagger had had nightmares about.

Thank goodness it wasn't moving though, but as Dagger leaned in closer (making sure she wasn't seen) she could hear them talking.

"I'm here for you," the beast said, with a cruel growl growing deep beneath her speech.

"I know," Zidane whispered, defeated, really. He hung his head, and sighed softly. The Cat smiled, as if she knew something that would absolutely devastate the already devastated Zidane.

"I'll have to kill Queen Garnet…" Dagger could hardly contain the gasp that slipped past her lips. Fortunately, they didn't hear her. Zidane looked up sharply, with a look of almost panic on his face.

"No…" he whispered, pleadingly. Dagger hung on his words. The large Cat smiled heartlessly.

"Yes," she whispered back, with a growing laugh in her throat.

"Please…no…" He said a little louder, looking the beast in the eye, "I beg of you, don't hurt her…" She continued to laugh, even as small tears poured down Zidane's cheeks. "Please!" he whispered, falling to his knees in supplication. "I'm pleading with you, don't hurt her…"

"Why shouldn't I? If it hurts you, why shouldn't I do it? You mean absolutely nothing to me, and neither does she. Why should I spare her life?"

Zidane stared up into the Cat's eyes with a look on his face that Dagger never had seen. He was completely, utterly broken, with no recourse left. This was the last thing he had left to give, and Dagger felt tears falling down her cheeks as Zidane whispered his final supplication to the Cat.

"I'll go willingly. You have me…" he whispered, "Why do you want her dead? Please…_please_…don't kill her…I promise to give you absolutely no struggle when you take me. But please…_please_ don't kill her. She means more to me than life itself."

The Cat picked up her paw, as if to console his grieving heart, but then struck him so hard across the face, that he fell helplessly on the ground. He didn't move, simply lay there and listen to the Cat's words.

"I'll spare her life," she said, "_For now_. But you will not speak to me in that way _ever _again. If you do, I will not hesitate to kill her."

Nothing but a whimper escaped Zidane's lips, before the large animal kicked him hard in the middle of the stomach before flying away deep into the night.

Dagger stared at him for a minute, torn between rushing to his side or calling for help. Her cheeks were slick with her tears, and as she stared at the broken form of her dear, sweet Zidane, the tears started pouring again. She ran to his side.

Dagger slipped her hands underneath his limp body, pulling his body up close to hers. He was unconscious as Dagger pulled him back into the infirmary room.


	3. Aftermath

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Here's your next chapter…Please R&R!

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Disclaimer: I don't own it. Squaresoft does. I wrote it. Squaresoft didn't. I don't send lawyers to Squaresoft's doorstep. Please don't send them to mine.

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Dagger laid him down on the bed and lit a candle. His face was bruised where the Cat has stuck him and he had five very precise puncture wounds on his face from what Dagger could only assume was the Cat's claws.

A small amount of blood stained his vest in the front where the Cat had kicked him as if he were no more than a piece of trash. With bated breath, Dagger gently pulled off the vest and shirt.

The area where the beast had struck him was slightly bruised and was bleeding acutely. Dagger felt the tears coming again.

_He did this for me,_ she thought, closing her eyes in the pain of this realization, _he sacrificed his life for me…_

Dagger slipped out of the infirmary and called for the Doctor.

"He's been attacked again," she whispered, and the doctor nodded solemnly. Dagger returned to bed.

Over the course of the next few weeks, the doctor refused to let Dagger into the infirmary. But finally, the day came when he let her in. That morning, Dagger forced herself out of bed and walked down to the infirmary. She met Steiner on the way there.

"Is he…?" she asked, staring into his eyes for some small hint to the truth.

"I'm not sure, yet." Steiner said, before turning and following Dagger into the infirmary.

"I'll be fine, Rusty," said a weak, but stable voice. As Dagger looked into the infirmary, she saw that Zidane was _standing! _

Dagger stared at him, only for the space of a minute, before pulling him into her arms. She squeezed him for a second, and then pulled back to look at him. He gave her a soft smile, and she looked into his eyes for a second before surprising him with a gentle kiss. As soon as she did, however, Zidane turned away. Dagger thought she caught a rather sad look in his eyes, but it vanished instantly. He took her hand delicately in his and gently brought her over to the balcony. Alexandria glimmered in the early morning light.

Dagger stole another glance at Zidane, who seemed to be longing for something. As quiet as she could (so as not to attract attention) she asked the question that hung in the air.

"What's wrong, Zidane?" she asked, touching his arm lightly. Again he turned away from her. "Nothing," he whispered softly, his voice breaking ever so slightly. "Zidane," Dagger whispered in the sweetest voice she could muster, "please tell me..." She thought she saw him wince as she rubbed his arm tenderly.

And then she remembered.

She couldn't help looking down at the tiny red stain that marred the perfect marble balcony and recalling how the large, black Cat had kicked him so callously…the sadism in her eyes….

Dagger shook the thought out of her head and looked up at Zidane. She could have sworn she saw the tiniest tear slip from his deep blue-green eyes.

"Please Dagger…" he whispered, and Dagger massaged his arm encouragingly, "please leave me alone…I promise you things will turn out alright…"

Dagger nodded solemnly, but just as she turned to walk away, Zidane gently wrapped is arms around her neck and kissed her cheek tenderly.

"But don't doubt that I love you," he whispered against her ear, "ever."

He let go of her and watched as she walked out of the door. He sighed softly. _You have no idea how much I love you,_ he thought. _I love more than life itself…._

_The Cat landed in front of her with panther-like grace, staring into Dagger's eyes with the cruelty of a crocodile. Dagger hardly felt the rain pound against her as her breath caught in her throat. She stared up at the Cat. Zidane lay between her front paws, five long gashes across his chest from the cat's large paw. He had stopped breathing long ago. _

_Dagger couldn't run. She could only stand and watch the Cat touch Zidane's lifeless chest with her nose. Dagger's stomach turned as the Cat raised her head, her muzzle coated in Zidane's blood…._

Dagger awoke in a cold sweat. Something was wrong. Without hesitation, Dagger ran as fast as she could to Zidane's quarters.

She opened the door and saw Zidane lying peacefully on the bed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. She breathed a soft sigh of relief and walked over to him.

She caressed his face tenderly, watching with small satisfaction as a small smile crept across his face.

She returned to bed.

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Don't worry. There will be more. R&R!


	4. Zidane's Capture

Zidane awoke. The soft light of the moon shone upon him; he lifted himself out of bed. _She_ was standing there.

"Cyra," he whispered, staring up at her. The woman stared back at him. "On your knees," she said, pointing to the ground. Zidane knelt down.

She walked over to him. He offered no struggle, but sighed forlornly as she pulled his wrists behind his back sharply. She bound him tightly, as if savoring it. She pulled him up onto his feet.

He followed her as she walked out of the castle. As soon as they were out of the city, she turned back to him. Zidane shuddered at the cruel stare she shot at him.

But he said nothing, knowing that she might decide to be a little more merciful if he was still.

She drew an iron collar and chain from behind her. Zidane knew what _that _meant. He stayed still as she brought the collar around his throat, pulling it suffocatingly tight against this throat. She yanked the chain and he fell forward, unable to pull himself because of his bound wrists. She hauled him up by the throat. They continued.

At length, after passing though a rather empty forest, which contained nothing but rather old trees, and a few very young ones, they came upon a small clearing. The trees seemed to bow towards this clearing, and the grass that grew within it was wild, but at the same time soft.

Zidane noticed a rather large stone table in the center. The table was composed of pure white marble, and along the edges contained a script that Zidane didn't recognize. It was in a language he had never seen or heard of; but the characters were beautifully crafted, as that of a beautiful language. The table was tall, about up to Zidane's chest, and remarkably well built; it wasn't just a flat rock.

Growing near and around the table was a trellis with roses, still in bloom, flowing up and over the table. The roses were a dark red, not a bright dark red, but rather a dark red that showed that the flowers had been dead for some time, but had somehow managed to keep their color. Upon their dry stems, thorns, sharp and curling cruelly shot out.

A few yards away, there was a tree. The tree, one of the younger trees in the forest, stood surprisingly tall. Its branches spread out, but it was indeed thin, only about ten inches thick, Zidane thought, compared to the other tree's great thickness of anywhere from three feet to even fifteen feet thick. Cyra dragged him over to the tree. Binding him so that he was hanging from it, she left him alone.

Dagger awoke early the next morning to bring Zidane some breakfast. She had just placed some fruit as well as some oatmeal on a tray when she stepped into the room. Zidane was gone.

She had a feeling he had just gone for an early morning walk (as he was sometimes inclined to do), and so she went over to his bed. A small note lay on the bed. She picked it up….

….and dropped the tray. The note was not Zidane's hand, nor was it friendly.

Dear Queen Garnet,

I am sorry to tell you that Zidane is now in my custody, and is awaiting execution. I would suggest to you that you come to the place marked in the enclosed map three nights from now, if you want to see Zidane before he dies.

Remember that he is in my legal custody, and so you are not permitted to see him prior to this.

Sincerely,

Cyra Kalimika

Dagger began to quake slightly. _Who would have a reason to kill Zidane?_ She wondered, rereading the note.

She turned the note over to see an elegantly drawn map. She still couldn't believe what was happening.

It had been a day or so, and left out in the heat of the day, Zidane was utterly exhausted. He knew what Cyra was doing—she was weakening him. He was dehydrated and hungry, and his wrists ached from being hung for so long.

He worried about Dagger, though. _She's probably worried sick!_ he thought, imagining Dagger pacing back and forth in her room, wondering where he was.

He longed for her, pined after her. He knew he was here to die, and whatever course of action Cyra would take as far as his death was concerned, he didn't care. He knew he deserved it, but he prayed fervently that Cyra would at least let him see his precious Dagger again.

Finally, night fell again. The relief of seeing the sun set was absolutely relaxing. Zidane laid his head down on his shoulder and tried to sleep.

He later awoke to the feeling of something cold and hard beneath his chin. It was pushing up against him and he was too tired to give resistance. His eyes fluttered open. Cyra was standing in front of him, holding a knife. Her face bore a sadistic smile, and she leaned in close.

"I'll only let you rest during the day…" she whispered, laying the knife on his chest as she slipped in closer. She cut his shirt and vest, smiling as she did so, watching him shiver in the slightly cool wind that blew across the clearing. "But tonight I'll make an exception…tomorrow will be difficult, though."

Zidane was thankful for her mercy, and as she walked away, he laid his head back down upon his shoulder and tried to sleep.

Dagger stared up at the ceiling of her bedroom, thinking about Zidane. _What on earth did Zidane do to deserve death? Why is it three nights from now and not right _now_? What are they doing to him?_

The questions buzzed around Dagger's mind until she finally fell into a fitful sleep.

The next night was terrible. Cyra had spent most of it beating him, truly to within an inch of his life.

She picked up her hands and laid them on his bleeding and bruised back. Zidane gave only a small whimper. "Just one more night," she whispered in his ear, caressing his face lightly. Zidane said nothing; he was hardly conscious anyways. Cyra turned and left.

Zidane was hardly able to stay conscious for the rest of the day. He knew he had been conscious for only a few minutes at a time, for spaces of hours. When he opened his weary eyes again, it was night.

Evidently, Cyra had left him alone tonight as well, for when he opened his eyes again, it was day-break. He had never felt so hungry in his life, or as thirsty.


	5. Zidane's Capture, pt II

I0I0I0I

Dagger pulled from her closet a cloak, for it was cold tonight. She looked around for a moment before traveling out of Alexandria.

I0I0I0I

When Dagger reached the place the map had indicated, at first she thought she had gone to the wrong place. All she could see was a clearing, nothing _really_ special about it at all….

…Until she noticed it. A tree stood in the middle of the clearing, and by the light of the dual moons, Dagger could just see Zidane. He was hanging by his wrists, and seemed hardly conscious. He was stripped to the waist, and looked very, _very_ exhausted.

A woman, tall and thin, with long black hair stepped forward. A black dress clung to her thin frame as she walked towards Zidane. For a moment, and only for the space of a moment, the woman turned to Dagger, somehow noticing her from across the clearing.

The woman's face was small and pointed, her black hair cascading down her shoulders and back. Dagger would have said she was pretty or even beautiful until she met the woman's eyes. Deep, _piercing _green eyes grabbed Dagger's attention as she froze, afraid to move. In their emerald depths swirled a certain contempt; Dagger guessed it was for Zidane's life. Dagger stared as the woman turned back to Zidane and roused him with one sentence: "Why hello, my love…"

I0I0I0I

Zidane awoke to a familiar voice. It was sickly sweet: "Why hello, my love," it said. He recognized it as Cyra. As he opened his eyes, he realized that it was dark out. He knew what was about to happen. Cyra was going to kill him tonight. He felt her hand lifting up his drooping head.

His entire body tensed with this realization: he was going to die _tonight!_ "Cyra," he whispered; his voice was low and gravelly. She dropped his head; he had no strength to keep it up, and so he let it fall back to his shoulder. He felt the pressure on his wrists release, and he hit the ground hard. He prepared himself to be hauled up and dragged over to the stone table for his death. He lay there, not moving or struggling, even as he heard Cyra laughing.

To his surprise, he felt himself being pulled up and into gentle arms; it was Dagger! She had come. His heart cried out to her; he stole a glance at her. No sight could have been more beautiful to him as he relaxed into her tender touch…..

….until he realized that she was about to witness his death. He didn't want her to see him tortured and killed. She deserved better. Before he could fully digest that she was here, Cyra spoke.

"Right on time," she said, smiling sadistically. Zidane resisted the urge to bury his face in Dagger's arms. He could not deny the fact that he was terrified of what Cyra was going to do to him. "Stand up!" she yelled. Zidane trembled for a moment, then stole himself.

He had given Cyra his word.

He forced himself to his feet, even though it was quite painful. Cyra pointed over to the stone table. He took a step, and then another. He knew he was going too slowly for Cyra, but he couldn't do much else. It didn't surprise him when he felt Cyra kick him hard. He fell forward.

"Get up!" Cyra yelled, hauling back to kick him again. Zidane cringed, but, curiously enough, the next thing he felt was Dagger's gentle and kind touch. His heart, once more, rejoiced at the feel of her kind and loving touch. He looked up at her and felt like a stake had just impaled his heart. He couldn't think of anything more saddening to him than to see Dagger cry, especially because of him.

She helped him up and over to the stone table.

He lay down upon it, saying nothing. He risked another glance at Dagger, who had tears flowing down her face. He wished desperately that he could kiss those tears away.

The rock was cold and hard against his tender back, but Cyra walked over and rolled him over, and bound him face down. The shackles were attached low on the rock; she bound him tightly, so that he could hardly breathe. He was pulled so taut across the table that it seemed to open his back up, tearing the wounds and making his back hurt even more.

He knew that Dagger could see his bruised and bleeding back now; somehow, that struck him as humiliating. He didn't want her to see him like that, but there wasn't much he could do about it now.

"What do you see, Dagger?" Cyra asked. Zidane waited for her answer; he knew she was still crying.

"I see Zidane," she whispered, between small sniffles. Cyra laughed. "You see a weak and pathetic sacrifice, hardly worthy of my attention." Dagger was quick to respond. "Then why don't you let him go?" she asked. Zidane closed his eyes. He couldn't bear to hear Dagger in this kind of agony. As much as he had wanted to see her before he died, he didn't want this. This was just too much for her.

"Because his life is forfeit to me," Cyra said, "As will yours be, if he offers any struggle." He heard Dagger gasp.

_Don't worry, Dagger_…. he thought to her, _I'd die a thousand times before I let Cyra touch you._

There was a silence. Then, Zidane caught a soft, sadistic purr.

"Hit him twenty times," he heard Cyra whisper. Dagger gasped. "If you don't hit him," she whispered, "Then I'll hit him forty times, and I doubt that he'll be able to survive that."

It felt like an eternity before he felt it. It was a whip, a feeling he was well acquainted with. It hurt, but not quite as much as it would have if Cyra was wielding it. Dagger was trying to hard not to hurt him any more than was necessary; her love was touching.

Zidane had suppressed his cry for two reasons. The first was that he didn't think Dagger would have been able to stand it if he had given any kind of vocalization. The second was that Cyra might make Dagger hit him more if she thought he was breaking.

He managed to suppress it for fourteen strikes. But on the fifteenth, he could stand it no longer. He allowed the tiniest of whimpers to escape his lips. He sensed Dagger in her hesitation. He cursed himself for giving over, but his back simply hurt too much.

Over the last five, his cry grew into a gut-wrenching scream. "Shut up!" he heard Cyra cry, and she strike him hard across the face.

She walked away. He was thankful she wasn't about to make both he and Dagger go through that again.

He hoped his death would come soon enough, for the pain excruciating, but the thought of Dagger standing beside him, weeping, was even more painful.

A cold wind blew across the clearing. Zidane quivered slightly. He felt the slight touch of fabric across his back. He tried to look up. Dagger moved around in front of him, her soft brown eyes moist with tears. _Oh, god, Dagger…please doesn't cry…_he thought. She caressed his face before touching her moist lips to his dry lips. Dagger had no idea how comforting that kiss was to Zidane's anguished, grief-stricken heart.

He felt the cloak being removed; he saw Cyra walk towards him. She lifted his head, as if to gaze into his eyes, but then pulled a knife to his throat. He quivered. _Is this is? _he wondered, hoping it was.

"Oh, but that would be too easy," she said in a patronizing tone, pulling the knife back. "I want you to suffer before I take your life." _Haven't I suffered enough?_ he thought. "But I suppose," she said, pulling out the cruel looking collar and chain, "that I could let you have some water before we begin." _Water! _Zidane thought. Oh, how he had longed for water during the four days he had been held prisoner here. He felt himself being released from the rock and hauled to his feet. Cyra slipped the collar around his throat, tightly. She bound his hands behind his back and, to his surprise, handed the chain to Dagger and pointed over to the tiny brook that flowed just inside the forest.

Dagger gently knelt down beside him. He felt her tender touch against his face, a touch that almost made him forget why he was here. She gently helped him to his feet and began to walk over to the brook, with Cyra following closely behind. Once they reached the stream, Dagger gently lowered Zidane to the ground, in a kneeling position. He rested his face in the water for a second, enjoying the cool feel of that healing liquid pour around his face. He drank eagerly. He felt Dagger stroking his face, chest and arms encouragingly, not hesitating to lay a kiss there as well.

Cyra only allowed Zidane a few swallows of water before grabbing the chain that Dagger had abandoned and yanking it. He choked, but gave no resistance. She had shown him mercy, and he dared not rebel against that.

Cyra dragged him back to the stone table, where she bound him face up. Zidane whimpered softly as he was bound, for his wrists hurt intensely. He lay against the cold rock, his back scraping against it. It _hurt!_

Zidane, even in his pain, stole a glance at Dagger, who seemed to be in shock. Her tears were so much so that her entire face was slick with them. She seemed to be in worse agony than he.

He looked back up at Cyra. "Please…" he whispered. She stared down at him, anger in her eyes. "Please, must Dagger watch?"

Cyra laughed. "She's going to be the one that kills you!" Zidane gasped. _No! _he thought desperately, _Anything but that. It'll kill her! She'll die because of me…_

His silent plea was ignored. A sword, long and narrow, was handed to Dagger. It was a beautiful sword; a weapon like that was rare to be of such great workmanship. The silver of the sword glinted in the moonlight.

Zidane found the prospect of Dagger being the one killing him more frightening than Cyra killing him.

"I have a feeling," Cyra whispered, walking around Zidane, her finger trailing along Zidane's heaving chest, "that you know what to do with that sword."

Zidane knew this was just too painful for Dagger. "Please, Cyra," he whispered to her, "Don't make her do that," Cyra ignored his desperate plea. In fact, just to spite Zidane, Cyra gagged him so that he would stay silent when he was slaughtered like the innocent lamb that he was.

Dagger laid the sword down at his chest, and applied just a little bit of pressure.

"It's going to have to be harder then that," Cyra cackled. Zidane heard Dagger swallow hard. It was killing her!

Dagger tried not to look at his face. He knew that was best, but he wanted to show her that he forgave her for this. _It's okay, Dagger…_ he wanted to whisper, but couldn't. The hurt in Dagger's eyes…. He found soft tears forming in his eyes as well.

"Oh Zidane…." she whispered. Zidane heard it, feeling the tears in his eyes dripping on to the hard table. He watched as Dagger finally gave herself over to looking into his face.

That must have hurt her badly. Zidane could see the visible anguish in her eyes, but at the same time, he met her eyes. _It's okay…go on..._Zidane thought to her. The emotion must have carried though his eyes.

Despite that, Dagger shook her head, mouthing the words, _I can't._ Zidane allowed a morose smile to cross his features. _You must._

Zidane felt herself mentally preparing herself to kill him.

Zidane felt her brace herself, the sword pointing straight into his chest. She thrust the sword into his chest.

Zidane's death was not instant. He screamed in exquisite agony, writhing in his bonds. Cyra turned into the woods and left laughing, even as Zidane cried out. Finally, he fell back to the rock, panting in a _much_ labored breath. His breathing wasn't smooth, though. He could hardly see straight, he was in so much pain.

Dagger rushed over to his face. Even as though he couldn't stay still with the pain he was in, she took his face in both of her hands. She pulled the gag off so that he could talk, but she imagined he probably couldn't now.

"Hush, my love," she whispered, caressing his bruised face with her hands. Despite the pain, he relaxed slightly. She touched his cheek, and the side of his face. It felt wet. He knew she felt the tears he had shed.

"Zidane, I…" she couldn't finish her sentence. She tried again, but met the same result. _This is too painful for her! _he thought, watching her in her own exquisite agony. He forced himself to speak, no matter how much it hurt. He couldn't let Dagger go through this alone.

"Just kiss me and tell me you love me," Zidane whispered in a pathetic, wheezing voice, "It's all I ever wanted from you."

Dagger lowered herself down and touched her lips to his forehead. She lifted up and touched her lips to his nose. "I love you," she whispered, before touching her lips to his parched lips. They held that final kiss for a moment, until Zidane fell back against the rock.

He was dead.

I0I0I0I

Dagger stared at his lifeless body for a moment. _I just killed him…_ she realized, staring at the sword that had pierced his heart. After a moment of contemplation, she decided it was the least she could do to release him from his terrible bonds.

She reached forward and unbound his wrists first, which was not an easy task. Cyra, in her hatred for Zidane's life, had bound him so tightly that it took a lot of strength to release him from his shackles. His wrists had been bleeding, and so fresh blood covered them. She couldn't believe the Cyra's cruelty. Finally, she cut him free, giving him the freedom he deserved, even if it was just a little late for him to enjoy it.

She next laid her cloak across his body, touching his face and lingering there. It was already cold.

Finally, she plucked a rose from the plant beside the table where Zidane lay, and placed it on his chest. "I love you," she whispered again.

She kissed his forehead one last time before leaving.


	6. Tears Frozen in the Depths of Grief

okay...i'm soooo sorry i haven't updated in a while...here is chapter six. remember: R&R!

oh yeah...i don't own it. Squaresoft does...but i wish i owned Zidane and Kuja! (because then i could give silverwitch07 kuja for her b-day!) but i don't. sniffles lol

Yours In Haste,

KalmeKalica

* * *

As Dagger returned back to Alexandria, she walked slowly. It was almost dawn, and the light was just now becoming evident upon the tops of the trees and buildings. Just as she was about to head towards the castle, she was stopped by a pair of guards. The two of them stared at her for a second. 

"I'm afraid you're under arrest," the first said. Dagger's head shot up. "For what charge?" she asked, looking up at them.

"For murder," the second said. He turned Dagger around and brought a pair of shackles around her wrists. _But I suppose I deserve this anyways…_ she thought. Dagger hung her head as she was dragged off to a dungeon far away.

The wolf pack ran quickly through the woods. The smell of blood haunted them; they had smelled it from miles away, and now were intent on finding it. Food was life, and blood meant food. They came to an open clearing.

The Alpha-wolf, a tall stately wolf whose intelligence far surpassed all wolves that had come before him led the pack in slowly. The scent of death was very close.

He came upon a stone table, and upon it laid a genome. It was dead, of course, and he was about to lay into it when he took a closer look.

"We can't eat this," he said, turning back to his pack. A look of blank faces stared back at him, all of them saying, _why not? We're starving!_ He shook his head.

"Malica wouldn't approve," one said softly, and the Alpha-wolf nodded. "We must take it to her…perhaps she can help him. She's been known to revive people before." he said.

"What happened to it?" a small pup asked, leaning forward to look at the lifeless form lying on the table. She lifted her paws onto the table to get a closer look.

"He was impaled," another said, leaning forward and touching the genome's lifeless chest with her nose. She rolled him over, gently. "He was beaten! Who would do this to him?"

"Cyra," said the Alpha-wolf. "Come! Let's get him out of here!" The pack lifted him up as gently as they could with their teeth. They went to where they knew Malica lived.

As soon as they had gotten there, they laid him down and the Alpha-wolf walked meekly up to the door. He lifted himself up onto the door and scratched it lightly. It was night, and he hoped desperately that the rumors he had heard about Malica's cruelty being just the same as her sister Cyra's were incorrect. The door opened. He tucked his tail between his legs.

Malica was more magnificent then he had imagined. She was pure white, covered in white fur from the tip of her nose down to her long and expressive tail. Her head was beautiful; completely cat-like and intelligent. For a second it was all he could do not to simply stare at her. Her wings spread out much like Cyra's, only they were majestically feathered and pure white, rather then being black and torn.

Her cold blue eyes stared at him for a second, as he stood trembling before her. He dropped to the ground in reverence of his Queen.

"Hush now," came the most beautiful and melodious voice the Alpha-wolf had ever heard. It sounded more beautiful than song birds, or even the familiar howl of his companions in his pack.

"Tell me what's wrong," the voice came again. The wolf dared to look up. Her cold blue eyes had melted, and she stared at him with kindness and compassion. She lowered her muzzle down to him and touched his face encouragingly. He built up enough courage.

"We found a dead genome in the forest," he said softly. "We think he was killed by Cyra." She took on a look of pure anger for a second. The wolf dropped back down to the ground in fear.

"Please forgive me for waking you," he whimpered, his muzzle touching the ground.

"Hush…" came that lovely voice once more, and a gently push under his chin brought his head up. "Where is the genome?" she asked. The wolf looked back to his companions. They brought the genome over to her.

She did something the wolf had only heard about. She changed forms. She turned into a beautiful woman, and knelt down beside the dead genome. She gently caressed its lifeless face.

"Oh, Zidane…." She whispered. The wolf returned to the safety and comfort of his pack. Malica picked up the genome in her arms and walked over to the wolves. She gently touched the Alpha-wolf's face, stroking him in a manner not unlike that of a dog and his master. She lifted his head to look into his eyes.

"Can you and your pack do something for me?" she asked sweetly. The wolf nodded. "Can you find where Queen Garnet is?"

A small pup wandered out to where Malica knelt. "She's going to be executed," it said. Malica raised her hand. The pup quivered. "It's alright," she said, "Whatever you've heard about my resemblance to my sister is untrue. I do not act like her." She touched the pup before continuing. "Do any of you know why she is being executed?"

"For the murder of her lover," one of the wolves said. Malica laid the genome down before them.

"This is her lover. Cyra killed him."

Malica gently pulled the stake from his chest and laid it down in front of the wolves. "In truth," Malica said, "Queen Garnet _did_ kill him. But Cyra forced her to."

The pup sat in front of her, whimpering. "What's wrong, little one?" Malica asked softly. The pup raised its head. "Will you be able to revive him?" Malica sighed.

"I don't think so. He's been dead for too long." There was a moment of silence between the wolves and their Queen.

"Can you find exactly where Queen Garnet is?" she asked. The wolves nodded. They tore off into the east, towards Alexandria and its rising sun.

* * *

an: wow...kind of left off there, didn't i? well! R&R! you read, obviously...now review! 


	7. Garnet's Rescue

Dagger had been taken to the innermost cell of the jail of some of the most offensive criminals known. She had been shackled and left without food or water, but she didn't care. She wished desperately that they would simply drag her out and have it done with, however they decided to execute her.

Her thoughts drifted to Zidane, whom she knew was laying on the table, or worse, at the mercy of some wild (and hungry) beast.

She prayed that her death would make up for what she did to him that night. She feared that she could never forgive herself.

I0I0I0I0I

Malica took Zidane and laid him in a small room that contained a bed. She stared at him for a moment. Cyra had been cruel to him. She knew that Cyra only used a stake with her victims if she was forcing another to kill it. _Poor Dagger!_ Malica thought. _She probably hates herself for what she thinks she did to Zidane…._

I0I0I0I0I

A day or so later, in the middle of the night, Malica awoke to a scratching at her door. As she pulled herself awake, she slipped on a robe and went to the door. The Alpha-wolf stood before her.

"What news do you bring?" Malica asked, kneeling down and touching his face like he was her pet.

"It is not good news, Your Highness," he said softly, pausing to continue. "She is scheduled to suffer the same fate as Zidane tomorrow morning."

Malica nodded, kissed the wolf's head, and sent him away.

Dagger was very distressed; she was in terrible physical pain as well as emotional pain. They had even blindfolded her out of spite.

She knew she was to die tomorrow morning, beaten, and then impaled through the heart, much the same way her sweet Zidane had been taken from her. _But then again, it should be that I be made to suffer the same fate as he…_ she thought. _I shouldn't expect to have a simple death, quick and painless. Zidane didn't….I owe him that much._

She sighed forlornly; saddened even more by the fact that no one cared about her any longer.

"I'm sorry I killed him!" she screamed to the walls around her. "I know he didn't deserve it…" she whispered.

"You're right," came a voice, soft and tender. "You are sorry, but you didn't kill him."

"Yes I did," Dagger whispered to the unknown voice. "I was the one driving the stake. I was the one that drove it though his heart."

"Now, now," the voice came again, "Did you really? I doubt very much that it was your intent to kill him, was it?" Dagger shook her head. She heard the door open.

"Oh, now," the voice said. "No one deserves to be tied like this." Dagger felt the blindfold being lifted off her eyes. She turned to see her savior.

"It's you!" Dagger whispered, "From the day all of this started. You were the one that saved Zidane from that black beast!"

"Does she not have a name?" the cat asked, staring at Dagger for a moment. "I don't understand…" Dagger whispered.

"The black beast. You've met her twice, but we can talk of that later. Let's get you out of here."

She freed Dagger of her chains and lifted her onto her back. Dagger clung to the cat's back like her life depended on it, and indeed it did.

She exited the prison, and swung herself into the air, with Dagger clinging to her.


	8. Zidane's Return

Dagger was indeed afraid, not only because of the sheer speed of the animal carrying her, but because of what Alexandria would do when they found she'd escaped. She laid her fear down, just for a moment, and tried to concentrate on where exactly the cat was taking her.

It wasn't long before they set down in front of a building. It was like a small castle.

Dagger had never felt so relieved to be let inside a building as when she stepped into this animal's house.

The animal turned into a human, puzzling enough, and led Dagger over to a small bed where she wrapped Dagger in several blankets, for it had been cold in her cell. She left for a moment, before returning with a cup of some thing with steam coming out of the top. She handed it to Dagger. "Drink this," she said, "It'll make you feel better."

Though the liquid tasted good, it did nothing to console her grieving heart. _Only Zidane could make me feel better…_ she thought.

"Now then," the woman said, sitting down next to her, "I'm Malica." Dagger nodded. "It's alright," Malica whispered, pulling Dagger down into her lap. "It's going to be okay." The tears hit Dagger, and they fell quickly.

"No, it won't," she whispered. "Zidane is dead…" Malica sighed. She slipped away from Dagger, and into another room. She stood there in silence for a moment, just out of Dagger's line of vision.

"Dagger!" Malica yelled sharply. "Come here!" Dagger stood up and went into the room that Malica had disappeared into. Zidane, curiously enough, lay on a bed, and next to his lifeless body stood Malica. She was touching his face.

"Do you trust me?" Malica asked without looking up. Dagger was about to answer that they had just met, but finally decided on, "Yes."

Malica stood up and drew a knife from her boot. She laid the blade on Dagger's palm, so that the sharp side was right against her hand. "Close your hand," Malica whispered gently, and Dagger obeyed. In one quick, fluid movement, Malica pulled the knife from Dagger's hand, leaving a slash across her palm. Dagger cried out in surprise and pain, but Malica guided Dagger's bleeding hand over to a small bowl. She let Dagger's blood drop into the bowl for a moment before bringing it back up. She laid her own hand over Dagger's. When she pulled back, the gash (as well as the pain) was gone.

Malica reached down and picked up a rose that lay on the ground of the room. She plucked the petals and mixed it with the blood, before slowly pouring the mixture onto Zidane's lifeless chest. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, holding his face as she did so. Malica looked up at Dagger. "Do that exactly," she said.

Dagger did so. Zidane's forehead was unnervingly cold to the touch, but she kissed him anyways. She owed him that much.

When she pulled back, nothing happened. She looked over at Malica, who pointed back at Zidane.

Dagger could not believe it. Zidane's eyes were _open!_ He took a few shaky breaths, before closing his eyes sharply and screaming. Dagger could only imagine the pain he was in.

She gently touched his face, wanting desperately to stop his pain, but not knowing how. The instant she touched his face, he stopped, panting because of exhaustion. Malica came over and lifted Zidane out of the bed, cradling him safely in her arms before carrying him out to Dagger's bed. She laid him down tenderly, setting Dagger next to him. "Lay next to him," she said, "He needs warmth more then anything." Dagger pulled the blanket over the both of them. She lightly touched his face, knowing he was still in _terrible_ pain. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked. He opened his mouth, but only shuddered. Dagger drew him in close to her, holding him as tightly as she could without hurting him. She felt him squeeze her with as much strength as he had, which wasn't much. She pulled the blankets even closer to them.

Malica returned with a glass of warm milk. She handed it to Dagger, who offered it to Zidane. He held it in his hands for a moment, savoring the warmth of the glass, before drinking it slowly. When he was done, Dagger tenderly laid her lips against his. He gave her a soft whimper.

"It's alright," she whispered, touching his face lightly.

"It's late," Malica whispered, "and you both need rest." She leaned over and blew out the candle lighting the room. She turned and left, probably to go to bed herself.

Zidane clung to Dagger pathetically, as if he was terrified of what lay ahead for him. She pulled the blanket over their heads, and gently wrapped her arms around Zidane, hoping it might help console his horror-struck heart. She kissed his neck and pulled even closer to him. She felt his tail tuck between his legs. He was scared. She wanted desperately to console that fear, but didn't know how.

They lay like that until Zidane fell asleep; clinging to one another like their lives depended on it.

The next morning, Zidane awoke to a gentle voice. "Wake up, Zidane," it whispered. He felt a light caress against his face. His eyes fluttered open. Dagger's soft brown eyes met his and he sighed quietly in relief. _It's not Cyra, It's not Cyra…_ he reminded himself. Dagger took a cloth and gently wiped away the sweat on his brow. She handed him another glass of warm milk, which he was very grateful for. He drank it slowly, savoring it.

Dagger stood up and stretched. Dagger took the empty glass from him and laid him flat against the bed. Zidane offered no resistance. _Is that because he's trained to, or is it because he trusts me?_ Dagger looked down into his eyes. They seemed to say _Take me, I'm yours. Do with me as you will._ Dagger smiled softly to herself. _He trusts me…_ she decided.

She gently spread him out on the bed, and though she sensed a small amount of humiliation from Zidane, she gazed at his body for a moment. He was dangerously thin from days of starvation, but he was well muscled. The small hole in his chest was gone, she noticed.

She gently rolled him over to look at his back. It looked bruised and painful, many stripes lining his back, to numerous to count. As tenderly as she could, she pressed the softest kiss upon his back. She heard him sigh softly, happily.

Her gaze fell upon his tail. She picked it up and stared at it for a moment. Scratches, long and similar to the scars on his back, lined it in a curious formation. "Did Cyra do this to you?" she asked, caressing his tail for a moment. He nodded. "She knew I didn't like anyone touching my tail…she knew how sensitive it was…" Zidane closed his eyes, probably remembering how Cyra had tortured him. She could only imagine Cyra standing behind him, holding his tail and a knife, dragging the blade across his tail, savoring his screams…

Dagger realized that she was indeed touching his tail and quickly set it down. "I'm sorry," she said. He shook his head. "Most people only touch my tail to tease me…" he whispered, "But I like it when you touch it." She smiled and picked up his tail again, stroking it back and forth. He breathed a great sigh of relief. Dagger was content to sit there stroking.

"Zidane?" came a voice. It was Malica. He lifted his head to see her. In her hand she held a small bowl. She bore a slightly pained look on her face.

"Lie still," she whispered, walking forward. "This is going to hurt a bit, I'm afraid. A lot actually. I've been told it hurts worse than a beating."

"What are you going to do?" Dagger asked, standing up. Malica showed the bowl to her. "I get this into each of his wounds." Dagger looked back down into the maze of stripes, coated in dried blood. She looked back pleadingly at Malica.

"I promise you I wouldn't do it if it weren't absolutely necessary," Malica whispered. "You're going to have to hold him still."

Dagger moved in front of him, gently holding him down.

"Zidane?" Malica whispered, touching his face, "If the pain becomes too intense for you, don't be afraid to let me know," he nodded, a little bit a fear making him quiver.

She started at the top of his back, coating her hands in the salve before rubbing hard. Zidane cried out at first, and Malica stopped. "It's alright," he whispered, "keep going."

Malica applied her claws this time, ripping open his delicate skin. She rubbed the salve in as she went, moving as quickly and as thoroughly as possible. Zidane screamed.

"Please!" he cried, "Please, stop!" Malica stopped instantly. The top of his back was bleeding profusely.

"It's going to be alright," Malica whispered, "It's going to be okay…" Zidane calmed down a bit before lying flat against the bed again. Dagger held his hand for a moment, giving it an encouraging squeeze. Zidane nodded.

Malica continued, stopping to give Zidane a break again. Her hands were covered in his blood, which turned Dagger's stomach. Zidane's breathing was short and labored. He nodded again.

She continued on again, coming to the middle of his back. He gave a gut-wrenching scream, this time. Dagger could hardly bear to hear his cry. Zidane fell limply back against the bed, unconscious. Malica stopped. "I'm afraid he has to be conscious," she said, "That way I can tell if the salve is working."

"Can we give him a few minutes to rest?" Dagger asked, looking down at Zidane. He looked calm and peaceful, now, but Dagger ached at the thought of putting him through that again. Malica nodded.

After a few minutes' rest, Malica gently awoke Zidane. He looked up at her pleadingly for a moment, before trying to relax. Dagger lifted his head and laid it in her lap. She felt him brace himself against her.

Malica started out as gently as possible, more or less massaging his back rather than breaking skin. Zidane whimpered; Dagger had no doubt that it was probably excruciatingly sore from his beating.

Malica began to break his skin, rubbing the salve deep into his wounds. Zidane managed to resist the cry that built in his throat. Nothing but the softest whimper escaped his lips. Dagger gently stroked his hair. He sighed softly.

Malica continued on, until the pain mounted up to be too much for Zidane. He couldn't stand anymore.

"Please!" he screamed, writhing a little, "Please, Malica…." his voice trailed off. Malica stopped. "Hush…" she whispered tenderly. "Let's get it done quickly." She touched his back again. "Please Malica…" he whispered. Malica looked at Dagger and shook her head.

"It must be done," she said. Dagger nodded and gripped Zidane's wrists. She felt him bracing himself, and listened to his labored breathing.

The next section of treatment was very, _very_ painful for Zidane, as well as Dagger. It nearly killed her to listen to his scream, knowing he was in exquisite pain and not being able to stop it.

Malica stood up and washed her hands. She came back over and gave Zidane's back one last gentle rub, before retreating back again. Dagger helped Zidane to sit up. He leaned against her, too weak to do much else. She touched his face. "It's okay," she whispered, "We're done."

Malica came out with a small cup of warm broth. She handed it to Zidane, who drank from it eagerly. After he finished the cup, he handed it to Malica before lying down upon the bed and falling into a deep sleep.

"What did you--?" Dagger asked, staring at Malica. "A simple sedative; otherwise he would have been in too much pain to sleep. It's better for the healing process as well."

"Now," Malica whispered, taking Dagger by the hand and leading her over to her bedroom, "Let's talk about you."

"What do you mean?" Dagger asked. "I mean Alexandria will still come for you. Cyra will lead them, or simply find you and take you herself."

"But Zidane…" Dagger whispered.

"That doesn't matter. If Cyra comes alone, it truly won't matter to her if he's dead or alive. She'll simply kill him after you're dead." Dagger shook her head.

"So why am I here? Why did you revive Zidane if the both of us are already condemned to die?"

Malica gently lifted her head, looking up and out the window at the setting sun. "Because," she said, calmly, "I'm hoping I can find a way for you and Zidane to get back to Alexandria, to spend the rest of your lives together."

Dagger choked back tears. "But what will Cyra do to Zidane when I'm gone?" she asked.

"I can't say for sure. You must remember, he doesn't even know why he is indebted to her.

"A long time ago, Garland promised Cyra his best genome. No one can say why she wanted one; perhaps it was only because Garland had promised her one. The two of them, you must understand, were in love, and Garland simply loved to shower Cyra with gifts.

"Unfortunately, it wasn't long afterwards that Garland made a mistake…and Cyra turned her anger towards the genome that he'd give her. And alas…Zidane was that genome. Poor little thing! His first memory was serving Cyra, under her cruel and sadistic shadow, always afraid of what she might do to him if he made the _slightest_ mistake.

"I remember watching the way she would treat him. Night after night, she would abuse him. She'd ask for a glass of water, and Zidane would bring her one, only to have it thrown in his face. She'd do this for hours with him, and each time, without complaining, he would bring her another.

"There was one night when Cyra went down to where they kept Zidane (a tiny cell, not much bigger than he was), and simply began to beat him. I had never seen such a display of anger and sadism. Poor Zidane! He just barely survived the attack.

"I visited him that night. It was the first time I met him in person, alone, one on one. Evidently I looked too much like Cyra. You should have seen him! He spent three or four minutes struggling, and the rest simply staring in terror at me. He dared not say anything, not even to plead for mercy. It wasn't until I touched his face that he said something.

"'Mistress,' he whispered in the most respectful voice I had ever heard. He hung his head, obviously expecting a blow of some kind. As gently as I could, I lifted his face and looked into his eyes. He met my gaze for a moment before looking away in fear, but I pulled him back, forcing him to meet my eyes.

"For a moment, he was riveted in terror. He couldn't move, and I swore his heart stopped beating for a moment. That is until he realized I wasn't staring at him with the sadism he had come to know. He was (for the first time, I believe) exposed to compassion.

"I left him with a kiss; that was all. As soon as I left, Cyra came in. I stayed close so I could see and hear what was happening. I watched closely as she lifted his tail, and caressed it lightly. He whimpered softly. She laid a blade upon it. Poor Zidane closed his eyes in fear of her.

"I will never forget Zidane's cry. Part of it was the humiliation of being touched and fondled in such a way, but most of it was the pain of that blade being dragged slowly across his delicate tail. It's sensitive…I know that much. Probably more sensitive then your fingertips. Poor Zidane…she drew that blade across his tail many _many_ times, not caring about his pain, nor showing the tenderness owed to Zidane for this torture.

"She only paid attention to him when he began to plead with her. He was in too much pain to do much of anything else, and in my opinion, a small plea for mercy is a lot better than being cursed at.

"'Please, Mistress,' he whimpered, throwing himself at her feet in desperate supplication. 'Please, have mercy!' he pleaded, lying flat against the cold ground. To my horror she kicked him.

"She hauled him up and began to drag him out of his cell, and out of the dungeon. I followed closely behind. She dragged him out to the edge of a steep cliff, holding him by the throat over the edge. She gripped his throat sadistically. 'Why do you insist on speaking?' she asked, enjoying watching Zidane choke against her grip. 'You know I forbade it…' He was just beginning to lose consciousness. I had to do something.

"I got between Cyra and Zidane, allowing him to fall neatly into my grasp. He gasped for air, gripping lightly. 'Fine!' Cyra yelled, 'I'll let him go. But I'll be back for him later.'

"'Do you mean he's free?' I asked, staring at Cyra. 'He's banished from the castle until I come back for him. Leave him on the cliff!' she yelled. I left him there.

"The next morning, he was gone."

Dagger sat still for a moment. It made a lot more sense, but she couldn't help the surge of guilt that rushed over her for not knowing somehow.

"Did he get up?" she asked, "Did he get away?"

"I can only assume," Malica said. "If not, then someone _very_ kind helped him. You have to understand that he had just been beaten to within an inch of his very life; he wasn't about to get up and walk away, let alone stand. But then again, Zidane is full of surprises," Malica said softly.

"You better get to bed," Malica said at length. "It's late." Dagger nodded and went off to bed.


	9. Zidane's Punishment

As Dagger slid into her bedroom, she gazed down at Zidane. His breathing was gentle and slow, very peaceful and calm. She smiled for a second, before lifting the covers and sliding in next to him.

It must have been midnight or so when Zidane stirred next to Dagger. She rolled over towards him, but didn't open her eyes, simply content to listen to his breathing. It caught her by surprise when she felt a tiny caress against her cheek. She kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep, until she felt him get out of the bed.

She looked up at him. He was turned away from the bed, facing a window. The air in the room was still and cold, and she watched as he shivered.

His back was remarkably healed; mere scars, shrunken and small compared to what they were before, criss-crossed his back. Dagger was thankful for that, but that's not the only thing that caught her attention.

She could hear him sniffling softly. His soft cry tore at her heart. "Zidane?" she asked, grasping a pillow to her chest. He showed no acknowledgement to her. She rose out of bed. "Zidane?" she whispered, clutching a blanket against her body. He looked back at her for a second, before turning to face the window once more. "Please Dagger," he whispered in a soft, broken voice, "Go back to sleep."

"Zidane, whatever is the matter?" she asked, rushing over to him. "Are you in pain?" She ran her hands across his back. He flinched, but not from pain, from _fear._

"No," he whispered, his voice no more than a breath of air. Dagger leaned forward and touched his arm, trying to turn him towards her. He pulled away.

"Please, my dear, sweet Zidane, what's wrong?" to Dagger's surprise, he flinched at her words, as if she were verbally attacking him.

"How can you call me that, after what I did to you?" he whispered, turning away from her. The glint of the moonlight from the window illuminated tears flowing down his face.

"What did you do to me?" Dagger asked, genuinely confused. Zidane turned around, with a look on his face that made Dagger want to hug him and never let go; it was a very _very_ distressed look, as if he had been told that he was to die tonight, in the same manner as before.

"I handed you over to Cyra," he whispered. "I condemned you to die at her hand…please, if there is anyway…" _How did he know that? _ Dagger wondered.

"Zidane, I don't blame you for that. Please believe me when I say that." Zidane shook his head.

"Dagger," he sighed, "Garnet….Your Highness…." Dagger shook her head as he fell to his knees before her in supplication. "Please….forgive me."

Dagger straightened her back, standing up tall. She pointed over to the bed. Zidane nodded, before slinking over to it. He lay down upon it, on his side of course.

Dagger walked over to him, but instead of joining him in bed, she set him so that he was in the middle of the bed upon his back. She stretched out his arms and held him there with her hands gripping his wrists. "Stay," she whispered. Zidane stayed.

She released his wrists, and he continued to lie still. Dagger took on an almost smug expression. "You want to be punished for what you did?" Dagger asked. Zidane merely lay there, ready and willing for anything she would do to him, ready to accept it as punishment, and secretly praying that it wouldn't hurt too badly.

All in one quick motion, Dagger swept down and met his lips with hers. She kissed him, holding herself there for a moment, allowing the curious feeling of passion and absurdity to creep over her. She pulled back, laughing softly. Zidane bore a very confused look on his face, but he said nothing.

"You're forgiven," she said, with a soft chuckle deep in her throat. Zidane opened his mouth to object when she covered him in another kiss. He kissed her back this time until she once more pulled back giggling softly.

"Now then," she said. "Do you feel properly punished? We can continue…" she said laughing inwardly at the look of absolute confusion on his face. She leaned down, cupping his face with her hands.

"I don't blame you," she said, "because Cyra is only doing it to get to you," she said, leaning down and giving him a tenderer kiss. "It's not your fault…."

"But if it weren't for me…" Dagger placed her index finger against his lips to hush him.

"I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, remember?" Zidane relaxed and enjoyed the next kiss that Dagger gave him. "Please believe me when I say I love you…" Dagger whispered.

Zidane nodded. Dagger pulled back, opening the blanket. Zidane couldn't escape the thought that flicked past in his mind, _Angel wings, _he thought, staring up at Dagger as she opened the blanket, spreading her arms out like an eagle, before swooping down and enveloping him in the warm blanket, wrapping her arms around him.

"May I be released now?" Zidane asked, only to meet the softest, sweetest laugh from Dagger. She ran her hands up his exposed arms, enjoying the way he quivered beneath her, smiling at that all too familiar look in his eyes that said: _take me, I'm yours. Do with me as you will._

She leaned back down again and kissed him tenderly, slowly, and with the greatest love for Zidane that she could give him though but one kiss.

"You're free," she whispered, laying her head upon his chest and sighing softly. Zidane slowly moved his arms in and around her, holding her slight frame protectively. Dagger sighed and cuddled even closer to Zidane.

She fell asleep to the steady beating of his heart.

Malica opened the door. Cyra stood before her. "You know who I'm here for," she said. Malica stared motionlessly for a moment. "Dagger?" she asked.

"Yes, Dagger." Cyra replied in a slightly impatient tone. "I want her here _now._" Malica sighed and walked over to the bedroom that Dagger and Zidane shared. She couldn't put it off; Dagger was Cyra's.

"Dagger?" Malica asked, looking at the bed where Dagger and Zidane lay, content in each other's arms. Dagger rolled over and opened her eyes. "Yes?" she whispered, waking Zidane in the process. He was behind her, and gently wrapped his arms around her. He looked up at Malica. "What's wrong, Malica?"

"Cyra," she whispered. "Dagger, come here." Dagger stood up and walked over to Malica. "She's here for me, isn't she?" Malica nodded solemnly. Dagger leaned over and kissed Zidane's forehead. He had tiny tears forming at his eyes.

Dagger walked over to Cyra, but the feeling of fear was replaced with anger. _If looks could kill…_Malica thought, _Cyra would be dead on the floor._

Cyra smiled, however, and grabbed Dagger by the arm and lead her out the door. Dagger was surprised to see about three or four inches of pure white snow on the ground.

Zidane ran over to Malica and stood beside her. "Is she…?" he asked, not able to finish the sentence.

"Yes," Malica whispered. "I'm afraid so."

A stroke of pain, acute and agonizing struck Zidane's heart. "No," he whispered, the denial of what was to happen to his sweet Dagger.

Malica disappeared into the back room. Zidane picked up a blanket and darted out the door before Malica knew what had happened.


	10. The Battle

Zidane walked as quickly as he could in the mounting snow. The blanket was not sufficient to keep him warm, so he shivered.

_I'm not going to give myself over this time,_ he thought, _this time, I fight! _He forced himself on the snow. It was blowing against him, but he didn't care. So long as he had the tiny knife he kept in his boot, he felt slightly confident.

Dagger gave no struggle, but only because she knew it would hurt more if she did. If she had any weapon other than her own hands she probably would have done something, but as it was, she did nothing.

Lead out to the middle of Alexandria, in the towns square, she looked out into the crowd of Alexandrians that had gathered. They weren't here to cheer on Dagger's death, rather, they were here out of respect, and that alone made Dagger feel at least a little better.

Cyra laid Dagger to the table in the middle of the square. It was nothing like the table Cyra had forced Dagger to kill Zidane upon; it was simply a stone slab, dirty and ill-constructed, more like a giant boulder rather than the beautifully carved stone table.

Dagger lay still as Cyra bound her tightly, however, if Dagger had had her way, she would have killed Cyra right there.

The snow fell quietly around as the Alexandrians stood still. They dared not move; Dagger guessed that Cyra had tossed them around a lot while Dagger was gone.

A cry echoed out from the crowd; Dagger recognized it as Eiko's voice. "Zidane!" she shrieked. Dagger craned her neck around at the same time that Cyra did. Dagger heard Cyra growl softly. The entire crowd turned to where Zidane stood, up to his shins in the snow, shivering, but holding his ground, and in his hand holding a small knife. "Let Dagger go," he whispered.

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_What on earth am I doing here? What was I thinking…I can't rescue Dagger…Cyra will kill me here and now,_ Zidane thought, but kept his serious and confident exterior.

He could just make out Dagger's form upon the rock, and he could see her craning her neck to see him. _At least she's still alive,_ he thought, and resisted the urge to melt into tears. _Not now, _he thought, _I need to stand my ground._

Cyra's confused look melted into pure anger. She walked slowly over to Zidane. He held the knife up defensively, knowing now that it would have the effect of a thimble full of water against a raging forest fire. With one great slap of her paw, she threw the knife out of his hand. She laughed, staring at him. He still held his serious exterior.

Cyra walked around him, much as a panther circles a deer before killing it. Zidane followed her, not once turning his back on her. _This is a survival game, _he thought. _If I can stay alive long enough, I might have a chance. _Still feeling slightly weak, he continued to follow her. She lunged.

Thankfully, not one of Zidane's cat-quick reflexes had taken a vacation. He ducked, and Cyra missed. _I just need to get something between me and her,_ he thought.

Cyra, now angry, was more dangerous than ever. She lowered her muzzle to the ground, almost touching her jet black fur to the cold snow below. She closed her eyes; Zidane made the mistake of relaxing. It was a big mistake. The second Cyra sensed the tension decrease, she lunged again. This time, however, she didn't miss.

Pinned down against the ground, Zidane wondered what would happen to Dagger now. He couldn't believe that he had _allowed_ himself to relax. He gave himself over to the one thing he could do now: look into Cyra's eyes.

As he stared into the yellow-green crystalline eyes of Cyra, he shivered. So long had it been since he'd been forced to look deep into those eyes; so long had it been since he'd stared down into her dark soul.

Sensing that the only thing useful he could do now was to stall, he met her eyes fully, showing no fear at all, only reflecting Cyra's anger and showing his own purpose.

She slapped him hard across the face, not hesitating to leave her finely sharpened claws in her paw's wake. Five thin lines of red marred Zidane's cheek, yet he said nothing, only keep her eye contact with his own. Cyra reared.

She tore into him instantaneously, grabbing his back and tearing it and growling as she did so. She threw him down, _hard_, against the ground and walked towards him. Her long tail flicked furiously.

She circled him again, and Zidane once more followed her. But when she attacked, Zidane was in too much pain to dodge her. She hit him hard, driving him into the ground with the sheer force of the impact.

Raising her paw, she laid into him, running her claws along his back. Zidane screamed. Dagger struggled against the chains that held her down. Alexandria held on with bated breath.

A scream of fear echoed loosely from the Alexandrians; it wasn't from the horror of seeing Zidane killed in such a manner, or from the very presence of Cyra.

Before Cyra could fully register the sound, a flash of white came and knocked her to the ground. She bounced right back up again to kill whatever had just interrupted her murder of Zidane.

Cyra met eyes with Malica.

Cyra couldn't move. She simply stared at Malica for a while. Malica, however, was not the reserved, quiet, gentle animal that she had been when taking care of Zidane. With one great slap of her paw, she sent Cyra to the ground. Cyra snarled and threw herself at Malica.

The fight had begun.

The two of them exploded into a fit of growls, snorts, roars, bites, slashes, kicks, slaps, strikes, among other things. Malica brought Cyra to the ground, holding a firm grip upon her neck. Cyra pushed out of this hold before opening her wings bounding into the air before diving straight towards Malica. She moved, before jumping up and onto Cyra's back, driving her claws and teeth into Cyra. They hit the ground hard, burying their claws and teeth into each other. Cyra finally got out of the death roll and back off. She raised her paw and backhanded Malica hard. The snowy-white animal hit the ground a few yards in the opposite direction. She didn't move. Cyra walked over to her and circled her in much the same way she had done with Zidane.

As the two beasts battle, Steiner pushed his way through the crowd as quietly as he could. It was no small task; none of them wanted to move, and it was very easy to set them off in a loud display of fear and horror.

Finally he made it over to the stone table. As quietly as he could, he unbound Queen Garnet, and gently guided her back into the crowd. She strained to see what was going on; she needed to know if Zidane was alright, but all she could see was the fight.

Cyra reared, ready to send her claws straight into Malica, when Malica kicked. She kicked Cyra right in the legs and with that burst of energy, opened her wings and set herself upright. When she had kicked Cyra, Cyra had fallen into the snow, unable to get up. Malica roared, and Cyra ran.

One might have thought that as cowardice on Cyra's part. It was not. Cyra was only falling back much the way a Cobra falls back into its hole when chased by a mongoose. It lays in its hole, going deeper and deeper, the foolish mongoose chasing, until the hole widens enough for the cobra to turn and strike. Cyra's logic was stable and firm, and Malica was taking an awful risk in chasing her into the woods where Cyra had come to know. Malica didn't know the woods, but her instinct to her sister was keener.


	11. Happily Ever After

As soon as Malica had disappeared after Cyra, Dagger pushed her way through the crowd. She finally reached the middle of the square. She looked around for a moment before seeing what she was looking for.

Zidane.

He was lying face down in the snow, his back slick with blood. She rushed over to him. As gently as she could, she rolled him over. He was limp and cold; the snow beneath him was crimson; his chest was bleeding profusely. She pulled him into her lap and touched her fingers to his throat where she had seen Cyra catch him. There were five very acute marks on his throat.

She nearly sung when she felt a pulse; it was very _very_ faint, however. He wasn't breathing. _No Zidane! _she pleaded inaudibly. _Don't die now…_

"Steiner?" she asked, her voice breaking with the pain she was feeling in her heart. He marched over to her. She pointed down to Zidane with soft tears forming in her eyes. Steiner nodded and gently picked Zidane up. He was very, _very_ limp in his grasp.

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Cyra ran through the woods, Malica ever at her heals. At length, Cyra turned and the two of them exploded into the same battle as before.

Eventually, Cyra had gotten the upper-hand, and had her sister beneath her, flat against the ground. "You know that as soon as I'm done with you," Cyra roared, "You will have given me Zidane _and _Dagger?" Malica lifted her head and kicked Cyra hard, before meeting her full into battle.

"Tell me," Malica said, as they continued to battle, "Did you request Zidane or did Garland simply give him to you?" Cyra hesitated. "What do you mean?" she asked, stopping and facing Malica across an imaginary battlefield with about ten feet between them, leaning back into a battle ready stance, just as her sister did. Neither one wanted to be caught off-guard should the other decide to attack, but were taking a small break, the both of them tired enough not to waste energy on fighting too hard.

"I mean exactly what I asked," Malica said. Cyra relaxed, only a little, as did Malica. Make no mistake, though, both were ready to explode into battle once more should the circumstances require it.

"He was given to me," Cyra said, with a small smile flickering across her lips, "'Angel of Death'. I liked it, and I was amazed that Garland could create something like that. That was, of course, before I learned that Zidane was only here to ultimately take over Gaia,"

"And so you broke him," Malica asked.

"Yes. It didn't take much, I'm afraid." Cyra laughed.

"But enough about him," Cyra said, flicking her tail, "How about us? Won't it look simply _great_ if I take over as queen and get my hands back on your _precious _Zidane?"

The battle began again, this time more intense.

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Dagger followed Steiner as he brought Zidane into the infirmary and laid him down upon the bed. She was relieved to see that Zidane, _somehow,_ was breathing once more. He was still _very_ limp and _very_ still. She leaned forward to touch his face. Though it was cold, it still had a small amount of warmth to it.

"Dagger?" a voice asked. Dagger turned. The doctor was standing in the doorway, with something of a soft smile on his face. "You're going to have to leave, for now." He said. Dagger nodded. She turned and on her way out the door, "I prescribe bed rest for you, Your Majesty," the doctor said. Dagger couldn't think of anything she'd rather do, other than be with Zidane.

Dagger slipped into bed and tried to overcome the curious feeling of loneliness that encompassed her. For the past two nights she had had Zidane next to her; tonight she felt alone. She spent the next few minutes trying to get to sleep.

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That night, she rolled over and woke up. She had to see Zidane, even if was only to see him sleep. She stood up and slipped on her robe.

As she came to the infirmary, she pushed the door open slowly and quietly. She gasped.

The light of the stars and the moons shone down upon Zidane, giving him a slight halo. _Some Angel of Death,_ Dagger thought. He was awake, his gaze upon the ceiling. He hadn't noticed her.

A shriek, soft, but at the same time, unmistakable, shot though the air. Zidane burst up and forced himself to his feet, but was brought down by a wave of exhaustion. He fell to the ground.

Once more, Dagger was struck with helplessness as she watched a cat-like shape descend down upon him. She couldn't help the pang of panic that struck her hard.

The shape was illuminated black as it descended upon Zidane's prostrate form. Dagger could hardly contain herself. _Malica is dead,_ she thought in despair. Unable to suppress it any longer, Dagger screamed. The cat looked up.

The cat's eyes, however, were a soft and caring blue color, not the heartless yellow-green. Pricking her ears, the black animal leaned forward to Zidane. He whimpered.

"Oh, now, hush…it's only me…" she whispered. "Malica?" he asked hopefully. She purred.

Dagger pushed open the door and ran over to them. Malica was coated in dirt and dried blood. She was a mess, but no one could have looked more beautiful.

Malica lay down beside Zidane. He leaned against her, laying his head upon her chest. She laid her wings down upon him protectively.

"Then Cyra is…" Dagger asked, looking up into Malica's deep blue eyes. Malica heaved a deep and heavy sigh.

"Yes. Cyra is dead. She won't ever hurt you again," Malica said, nuzzling Zidane beneath her wings. She lay her head down upon the ground. Dagger touched Malica's forehead, where a long gash ran across. The cat's body was covered in various cuts likewise, each one still bleeding. Her ears flicked back and she closed her eyes. Her breathing was slow and shallow.

"Malica?" Dagger asked. Malica opened her eyes _very_ slowly. "Are you in pain? Is there anything I can do to help you?" Malica shook her head. "I'll be alright," she whispered.

Zidane pushed her wing back and sat up. He stared at Dagger for a moment; she couldn't quite read the expression on his face.

"What wrong?" she asked turning towards him. "Nothing," Zidane whispered, "You're perfect."

Dagger blushed slightly. Zidane stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out the small black velvet box. Dagger's hands went to her mouth. "You kept it?" she asked, "Though all that you went through?" He nodded.

"I love you, Dagger," was his only reply, "And I want you to be my wife."

She met his bright blue-green eyes. They stared imploringly at her, afraid of rejection, but willing to risk it.

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather spend the rest of my life with," she whispered, leaning forward and planting a kiss on Zidane's lips. She drew the ring from the small box and placed it on her finger. She looked up at Zidane and smiled. He had a bashful, half astonished look on his face. Dagger leaned forward and gave him a passionate kiss; Zidane relaxed into it.

When they finally broke the kiss, Zidane turned away. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant for you to go through all of that." He felt her hand slip under his chin and force him to look at her.

"Zidane?" she asked. He raised his eyebrows. "Shut up." Before he could ask, she gave him another passionate kiss.

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About a month later, Zidane and Dagger climbed into bed with one another for the first time since they were at Malica's house. He had been kept under such a close watch by the doctor and his nurses that Dagger had hardly gotten to see him all that much. She was very excited to be with him, and even more excited to spend the night with him.

Dagger cuddled in next to Zidane, wearing naught but a thin silk gown. He held her body close to his, purring in her ear, his tail lightly flicking against her. Oh, how she rejoiced at the feel of his touch! She leaned back and kissed his face, gently, planting tiny kisses all the way from his cheek to his lips, where she lingered. Zidane moaned softly, then pulled her under the covers next to him.

A/N: So what did you think? I've got a sequel in the works now, simply called Crystal Tears II. Here's the run-through: Cyra has a daughter, and Zidane is promised to her. Is this daughter anything like Cyra? What will she do with him? What happened to Zidane all those years ago, in Cyra's keep? Read and find out!


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